


love and hisses

by annejumps



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Just Add Kittens, Kittens, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27350812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: Richie flipped through a mental Rolodex of who he could possibly ask to come live in his apartment in Chicago for a month to look after three kittens for him. There was no one who owed him a favor—if anything, he was the one who perpetually owed other people—and most people their age were responsible adults with families who couldn’t just leave them at the drop of a hat. Mike was busy at the library; Bill was probably writing a book, and Bill tended to dump all his focus on one area at a time. Bev and Ben were busy, but one person who might be able to find the time was… Eddie.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 136





	love and hisses

Someone had once told Richie that while he was taking a break from touring, a good way to spend his time would be to foster cats or dogs. Although he wasn’t entirely sure he was the type, after an organization he’d casually inquired with reached out to him with two brother kittens that were eight weeks old who needed fostering before they were old enough to be adopted, he accepted. After a lot of training and purchasing of supplies, he kept them in his apartment and took them to vet appointments until they were ready to be adopted. They were named Mike and Ike, one was ginger and the other was black and white, and they were very cute. He was a little sad to have to give them up, but it had been made very clear to him that the entire point of fostering baby animals was to prepare them for moving on to a permanent home. All in all, he felt pretty accomplished, and he was happy to take on a trio of seven-week-olds, two calico sisters and a tabby brother. Sitting around the apartment all day, with his naturally weird sleeping schedule he had no real problem. And the kittens weren’t so young that it was a complicated task.

Then Steve called, telling him he had a once in a lifetime opportunity to open on tour as a last-minute replacement for a big name who had to film a movie, with a headlining comedian who was one of Richie’s heroes. But he had just two weeks to decide. Steve sounded like he’d have a heart attack if Richie didn’t say yes, and there was basically no other opportunity to even meet this guy, let alone go on tour opening for him. Richie took twenty-four hours to say yes, after he’d secured agreement from his old friend, the highly responsible Stan, to come up and look after the kittens for the next month. It was a huge ask, which took a fair amount of wheedling and the promise that Richie would pay for his short-notice flight and let him stay in his apartment, doubling as a housesitter, as well as pay for all the expenses. Stan worked for himself as an accounting consultant, and could do a lot of work remotely; this wasn’t a particularly busy time of year for him, and thankfully his wife Patty thought a vacation in Chicago would be fun. “It’s like an Airbnb with cats,” she remarked.

Then, a week before they were scheduled to come up, Patty’s father got sick. Stan had to cancel.

Richie flipped through a mental Rolodex of who he could possibly ask to come live in his apartment in Chicago for a month to look after three kittens for him. There was no one who owed him a favor—if anything, he was the one who perpetually owed other people—and most people their age were responsible adults with families who couldn’t just leave them at the drop of a hat. Mike was busy at the library; Bill was probably writing a book, and Bill tended to dump all his focus on one area at a time. Bev and Ben were busy, but one person who might be able to find the time was… Eddie.

\-------

_Hey Eddie, can I asked you a favor_

This was followed immediately by _*ask_.

Eddie stared at his phone. He heard from Richie every now and then, in fact he was probably one of the people who texted him most, but Richie asking for a favor hadn’t happened in some time.

Before he could reply, Richie texted again. _It’s kind of a big one but you might be my only hope_

Huh.

_What is it?_

_I’m about to go on a major last minute tour and I need someone to look after my kittens_

_Your kittens???_ Since when did Richie have kittens?

_I foster kittens, they need someone to look after them for the next month_

_At your place? In Chicago_

_yeah. I’ll pay for literally everything_

Eddie pondered this. Richie knew he’d moved out of his and Myra’s place with the divorce finalized, and that as a newly out gay man he’d been living in a sparse “bachelor pad” for the past few weeks. It didn’t feel like home. His firm had a branch in Chicago that he visited from time to time, grabbing coffee with Richie when he could. He was senior enough and worked remotely often enough that he could just say he was working from there for the next month. 

_I think I could do that, yeah._

_!!! You’re a lifesaver Eds_

_You owe me._

_I am paying for literally everything_

_Yeah, but still._

_Fair point_

_My assistant will call you to book the flight and all that shit. It’ll be fun, I promise, they’re easy._

Eddie realized he was talking about the kittens, and it hit him that he, who had never had a pet before because his mother never would have allowed it, had agreed to watch three kittens for the next month.

Oh well, too late to back out now.

Days later, Richie sent a driver to the airport to pick Eddie up, and was almost done packing when he arrived. “I emailed you those videos,” he told Eddie, “and there’s a bunch of books and handouts in the kitten room on the bookcase, and all their supplies are in the closet. You have the run of the place—sleep in my bed, eat my food, watch my porn, anything you want. Text Marjorie with anything you need someone to pick up for you.” He looked like a chicken with its head cut off, running around with a distracted look on his face, finishing up getting his things together for a month on tour. 

“I’ve never seen you being this responsible,” Eddie commented, setting down the luggage he was laden with. 

“Yeah, well, looking after kittens can do that to a guy.” Richie glanced around, and then directed the driver to begin taking bags down to the car. “Speaking of which,” he told Eddie, “let’s go meet them.” He led Eddie to his second bedroom, now designated as the kitten room, and opened the door.

Inside, behind plexiglass walls, Eddie could see three kittens were rolling around and wrestling with each other on a soft-looking blanket. Once Richie entered, their attention caught, they stopped and pranced over to him, at which point he leaned down to pet them, and then picked two up, one in each large hand. They were both calicos. “This is Wynken and Blynken,” he said, “and that’s Nod. Nod’s the only boy. Calicos are almost always girls.” Nod was a brown tabby, busying himself with kicking at a fish-shaped toy he was biting. In the enclosure was a scratching post, a litter box, a soft-looking house big enough for them all to sleep in, a box to climb on, some more toys, and a few dishes of water and food. 

“Hi,” Eddie said to the squirming kittens. They were pretty cute. “No bottles, right?” he asked. 

“Nah, at this age they’re old enough for solid food,” Richie said, setting them back in the enclosure. “They’re scheduled to be neutered next week—that shouldn’t be a problem, just put them in their carrier and take them to the vet, info is on the fridge.” Eddie was starting to feel a little nervous. “Other than that, should be totally easy. Brush them, play with them. Help them exercise and get more used to people. Think of it as a vacation with kittens.”

Eddie nodded, and then Richie got a call from his manager and had to get going. Once he was alone with the kittens, Eddie missed him already. 

He contacted the organization that sent Richie the kittens, letting them know who he was and what he was doing. The woman seemed pretty nice. Eddie felt kind of encouraged as he set up his workstation, answered some emails, and then went to unpack his stuff in Richie’s bedroom. It was strangely unsettling, being here, knowing he’d be sleeping in Richie’s bed, but then again, there wasn’t really another choice. This was the only bed, and the couch was narrow and not a foldout. The room smelled like Richie, his clothes and things were everywhere. Even with him gone, something of his presence somehow remained. 

Once he was settled a bit, he reviewed the materials he’d been left. He’d already watched some videos, but he soon found himself getting engrossed in the ins and outs of kitten development. You had to feed them a certain number of times per day, of course, and with kittens under a certain age you had to weigh them too, to keep track of their growth. A kitten who wasn’t gaining weight could be in trouble. At this age, things were less dicey than they would be with newborns or even just littler ones, but still. Eddie had always had a keen eye for detail, and he could easily imagine keeping spreadsheets of kitten progress.

He went in to check on them. Having apparently worn themselves out, they were sleeping in a little pile, although one twitched and started to sit up when they heard him come in. “Sorry,” he whispered hastily, and backed out of the room.

He heard his phone chime; it was a text from Richie. _Forgot to mention, there’s a camera in there so you can watch them if you’re out eating or whatever. They probably won’t need you to monitor them but it’s kind of adorable to watch. I’m emailing you the link_

_Okay, thanks._

_Be good, Eds_

_You first._

_ha ha_

He returned to his reading, and reflected that at this age, there wasn’t really all that much that he needed to do. He was almost disappointed, but hey.

So. A vacation with kittens. Ironic that the one person he’d want to be on a “vacation with kittens” with was off on tour and needed Eddie to be on a “vacation with kittens” by himself to help him out.

Once he’d answered his most important emails, he went back into the kitten room, closing the door so they couldn’t get out into the rest of the apartment, and bent over the plexiglass to remove them one kitten at a time, while they squeaked and squirmed in protest. He sat down cross-legged, and let them sniff his fingertips; soon enough, they were climbing over his lap, little needlelike claws going through his jeans as they gained hold. One curled up on his leg as the other two used his knee as an obstacle to hide from each other from while they mock-hunted. They were distracted enough by playing or snoozing that they let him pet them without making a big deal out of it. He picked up a fuzzy little ball sitting nearby and threw it, and they seemed to like wrestling over that, except for the one who kept dozing on his leg. All in all they were pretty adorable, and he was surprised by how much time had passed once the more rambunctious two flopped onto the floor and dozed off. He carefully picked up the one snoozing on his leg and set him down in the enclosure, then the others, and then went to check his email.

Hours later, Richie texted him from his hotel room. _How are you doing, have they mauled you to death yet_

_Not yet._

_I gotta go but text me a lot of pictures_ , Richie said. _I promise you I will not get sick of hearing about the kittens even if I can watch you and them on camera whenever I want haha_

_Will do. Break a leg_

_Thanks, buddy. You’re the best_

Eddie knew Richie only had a few days to get his act together, so to speak, and he was almost certainly panicking over being caught flat-footed for this tour. He’d been planning on taking a break after coming out, then taking his time planning a new tour with a new set of bits. Richie liked having time to write and rehearse and refine his material. But this was a sudden opportunity he hadn’t been able to pass up. _If you need to practice on somebody, we can FaceTime. The kittens can round out the focus group_

_You read my mind, Eds. I’ll be in touch_

They agreed on a time for a call, and Eddie sat down in the kitten room, his work done for the time being, and listened to Richie’s act. Richie looked disheveled, wildly discombobulated—and very attractive, not that Eddie was going to tell him that. His hair was a mess, he was even more unshaven than usual, and he seemed self-conscious, but Eddie coached him through it: this line worked, this line needed a beat after it, he needed to explain more about the backstory for this part. It was actually kind of fun, and Richie gushed a lot afterward about what a lifesaver Eddie was. “Yeah, yeah. I’m always saving your ass,” Eddie said, smiling and letting a kitten lick his jaw, and Richie smiled back at him for a long time, or maybe he was smiling at the kitten. It was hard to tell.

Now that Richie seemed to have calmed down, Eddie let loose with the kitten pictures and videos. They were allowed to be in the living room with supervision, he and Richie decided, and so a few hours ensued where the kittens tentatively explored the couch and tables and found hiding places and perches, and Eddie got action shots and footage of them playing, as well as a live call or two where Richie asked him for his feedback on some more new material. Richie was still really nervous about his gay-related stuff, since it was such a departure from his previous act, and Eddie had to reassure him a lot. It was strange, though, listening to him testing out bits about the men he’d been out on dates with; it was weird thinking about Richie dating men, obviously not because Eddie thought being gay was all that weird—although he’d just finally accepted for himself that he was really and truly gay, and it was a new feeling, he didn’t think he was being weird, nor did he ever think Richie was weird—it was just that thinking about Richie going on dates with men, kissing them, being in bed with them made him feel uncomfortable in ways he didn’t really want to look at very closely right now. Especially not when he was sleeping in Richie’s bed.

While Richie was continuing to refine his act over FaceTime with the tour starting seemingly any minute, Eddie once casually asked, “So, these stories—are they recent? Like, are you seeing somebody currently?” and hoped that his voice didn’t rise up too high on the end of the question.

Richie looked at him for a while. “No, I’m not right now,” he finally said. “Most of that is from years ago, before I was really out.”

“Ah,” Eddie said, and was thankfully distracted by Nod’s insistent meowing as he crawled up his shirt for kisses. Nod had turned out to be kind of clingy.

The kittens had their spay and neuter appointments, on what turned out to be the first night of Richie’s tour. They were groggy and nodding off, wearing little flexible collars to keep them from licking themselves, and Eddie kept an eagle eye on them, separating them just in case, so that they didn’t lick their own suture sites or those of each other, especially with the girls. It all meant he was a little distracted from keeping tabs on Richie and congratulating him, but he checked Twitter and then texted him to see how it went. Richie sent a picture of himself looking sweaty and slightly inebriated, but he was beaming toothily and giving a thumbs up. Richie followed it with a string of heart- and rainbow-related emojis, and Eddie chuckled softly to himself, hoping he wasn’t getting too drunk. 

_Congrats_ , Eddie told him. _Get some rest_

_i will!!!_

_The kittens are fine after their appointments._

_omg I forgot, I’m such a bad foster mom. I spent all my foster care allowance on tanqueray and marlboros_

_It’s fine, that’s why I’m here._

_Theyre growing up so fast.Soon they’ll be adopted and ill be back there in a cold empty apt_ , followed by a crying emoji. 

_Take some aspirin with plenty of water_ , Eddie told him, thinking about finishing his duty with the kittens and heading back to his almost-empty “bachelor pad” in New York. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

_you got it, doctor k_

Before heading to bed, he spent some more time with the kittens as they came out of their grogginess, just gently petting them, until he finally got ready for sleep and curled up in Richie’s bed, finding himself wishing again that Richie was here with him.

Over the next few days, it seemed like Richie’s tour was going well and he was already having a good time, meeting the headliner at last (one of his big heroes, although Eddie was only vaguely aware of him), as well as a lot of other big names in comedy. He told Eddie, with some emotion in his voice, that he had people of all ages but especially younger people coming up to him after shows at the stage door and telling him how much they appreciated him publicly coming out as gay and apologizing for his past material. 

Richie actually had a pretty thoughtful bit in his current act about internalized homophobia, and he really managed to make it both hilarious and touching describing himself as a closeted gay teenager with forbidden crushes he thought only he had and which he knew he couldn’t breathe a word of, so he overcompensated by acting like a young Andrew Dice Clay. Eddie laughed at the bit, but he also found himself wondering who it was that Richie had had a crush on, and being a little jealous. Okay, maybe more than a little. He’d been very close to Richie when they were kids and teenagers, and even though Richie was objectively an obnoxious little dork, Eddie had had a raging crush on him before he’d even realized what that meant. 

While Eddie was hearing about Richie’s various doings on tour around the country, he was also coordinating with the fostering organization about how to handle helping the kittens with adoption time. It sounded like it would be pretty easy, and Eddie figured he was prepared, but at the same time, the end of their time at Richie’s also signaled the end of Eddie’s time here. 

But it turned out, with Richie adding on a week out in L.A. to talk over some exciting possible deals that had only opened up thanks to this tour, that Eddie might have a week here after the kittens had gone, just to relax before he had to go back to New York, and they might even have some time to spend a weekend hanging out before he left. Eddie found himself paradoxically looking forward to having some time to just relax and then seeing Richie, while not being particularly excited about how that would mean he was about to go back to New York, alone.

Eddie sat up one night reading a brief and waiting to hear from Richie about how that night’s show had gone; he had Nod in bed with him, because Nod cried the most if he left them in the room for the night, and although it was probably a bad idea to give him attention like this when he whined, his little mewls were so pathetic, and Eddie was lonely enough, that he figured maybe a little bit of time in Richie’s bed with him would be okay. The show was on the West Coast, so it was late when Eddie finally heard from him. _I know you’re in bed but that show was fucking great, I love the West Coast, I thougt they’d hate me but they love me_

_I’m actually still awake, I’m here with Nod. Everyone’s fine._

_Waiting up for me, Eds? I demand proof_

Eddie shut his laptop down, closed it, and set it aside; he pulled Nod closer to him, rested his head on his arm, and paused as he made a decision. No, he wasn’t going to put on a shirt. He sent Richie a picture of himself, shirtless, head on Richie’s pillow and a kitten curled up next to him on Richie’s fitted sheet, and he’d see what Mr. Richard Wentworth “Trashmouth” Tozier had to say about that.

Richie didn’t take that long to reply; Eddie wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. _Glad they’re doing well! Give Nod kisses for me_ , he said, following that with a string of kissyface emojis.

Oh well. He’d tried.

\-------

“Holy shit,” Richie whispered to himself, sitting on his hotel bed, staring at the picture on his phone of Eddie shirtless in his bed and cuddling a kitten. 

It couldn’t actually mean anything, of course. Eddie was about to go to sleep, Nod was an attention whore, Richie had demanded a picture. Hence, Eddie shirtless with a kitten. That was all. Eddie wasn’t trying to send a message, and it was dumb of Richie to think he was. He’d been asking for kitten pictures for weeks; that was what he was getting. Eddie just happened to be there, too. Shirtless. In his bed. 

As Richie was getting dressed in his pajamas, a thought occurred to him: Eddie jerking off in his bed.

Not that Eddie would do that. Eddie was clean and considerate. It might not even occur to him to do that. This was just more proof that Richie was inappropriate and kind of a pervert. Eddie would be appalled if he knew, for instance, that as Richie crawled under the sheets of his hotel bed he was getting a hand in his pajama pants and jerking himself off thinking about Eddie jerking himself off, in his bed. He was being ridiculous, but once he started there was no point in stopping, and he came thinking of Eddie naked in his bed, back arched and a hand around his dick. 

As he mopped himself off with the soft Kleenex you got in the nicer hotels, he felt pretty damn dumb. Eddie had never been interested in him that way, no matter how many years Richie had spent mooning after him like a lovesick bullfrog or some shit. Everything he’d ever done was to get Eddie’s attention or impress him, it felt like. Eddie clearly had no idea—could never know.

Still, Richie saved that picture to a special folder to make it unlikely that it would be accidentally deleted. Over the next couple of days, every now and then he looked at it: Eddie’s big brown eyes, tousled dark hair, sparse dusting of hair on his perfect chest. Then he’d remember Nod was there too, and feel stupid.

Eddie texted him off and on about the progress of getting the kittens adopted. That seemed to be going well. Then it was apparent that they’d have one more night there, and depart the next day; they were all going to the same home.

 _Tell them goodbye for me_ , Richie texted after a show, following that with a crying emoji. 

_They’re asleep_ , Eddie said, and followed that with a picture of himself in Richie’s bed, shirtless again, but this time with no kitten.

Oh shit.

“Oh shit,” Richie said out loud to himself in the empty hotel room.

 _Nice_ was all he trusted himself to text back. That could be about the kittens being asleep, or it could be about Eddie shirtless and possibly even naked in his bed. Eddie sending that with no kitten-related excuse had to mean something, right? Right?! But if Richie miscalculated and started acting like he was sexting a Grindr prospect, and that wasn’t what Eddie expected or wanted, he could fuck up their entire friendship. 

There was a longish period of no reply from Eddie before he got _I’ll tell you how tomorrow goes. Goodnight_

Okay then.

\-------

As he got everything ready for the kittens’ adoption day, Eddie almost managed to be distracted from the way Richie had shot him down. Richie knew he was into men. If Richie had been interested, he would have taken that bait. He hadn’t, so he wasn’t. Fine. Eddie had other things to focus on right now, anyway. And what had he expected, really? It was better this way, right? He’d have to go back to New York soon, after all was said and done. He didn’t actually live in Richie’s apartment.

The adoption went fine, although Eddie definitely missed having the kittens there when he went back to Richie’s. He texted him with an update letting him know everything went well, and he then did a deep clean of the kitten room and vacuumed the entire place. He was going to have some alone time now to lick his wounds before spending some time with his _good friend_ Richie, and then going back to New York, leaving Richie to his newly blossomed career and whatever exciting dating prospects that might bring him. And Eddie would probably have to hear all about it, but whatever, listening to what was happening in their love lives was part of what being a friend was all about, right?

Eddie got a text after he put away the vacuum cleaner; he read it over twice to take in what it was saying. Someone he’d been in contact with at the foster organization was frantically looking for someone who could take in a young pregnant cat who was going to give birth any day now. They needed a clean setup, preferably an entire room they could dedicate to the mother cat, the birth, and the newborns, and could Eddie do it? They needed to know really soon; they were in desperate straits.

 _I can do it_ , Eddie told them, getting a flurry of gratitude in return. And then he looked up everything about pregnant cats and newborns that he could possibly find.

He called Richie, because this seemed like it was too important to handle over text. “Uh, I hope I didn’t just do something really stupid,” he said, when Richie greeted him with “Hey, Eds, what’s up?”

“Never,” Richie said. “What happened?”

“Uh, I kind of agreed to do an emergency foster for a pregnant cat that’s apparently going to give birth any second.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know. I know! I’m sorry, it wasn’t my place. Like it literally isn’t my place. I’ll call them back, I’ll tell them to—”

“No! No,” Richie interrupted. “It’s fine, Eds, it’s totally fine. I’m almost done with the tour, I’ll be home soon and then I can help you out and take over. I know you can handle it, man. If anyone can, you can.”

“I—” It suddenly really hit Eddie that he’d be responsible for a pregnant cat who was about to have a litter of newborn little baby kittens. “Oh shit, Rich, I can’t do this.”

Richie laughed. “Of course you can. Look— Face it, Eddie, you’re going to be a dad.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie replied automatically. “We’re _both_ going to be dads.” He felt himself turning red as Richie laughed, delighted. 

The pregnant cat was a beautiful tuxedo, named Jezebel, very round of belly and very affectionate. Eddie watched her get comfortable in the cat room and made sure she had plenty of water and special mother-and-baby formula cat food available, and then it was time to wait, as he sent pictures to Richie of her playing and eating and tolerated his crude remarks about her swollen nipples. He found himself staying up later, because what if her labor started at night while he was asleep? He’d been told that mother cats instinctively knew what to do, but what if she needed help? He put a box on its side and put a towel in it, in case she wanted to sort of hide somewhere.

He and Richie exchanged updates: Richie on the final days of his tour, Eddie on the mama cat’s progress. She was playful, but after a while she started to act more and more restless, and Eddie fought off panic, knowing that probably meant she was close. He texted Richie. _Don’t freak out but I think her labor is starting_.

_omg. I’m freaking out_

_I said not to. Don’t, because I need emotional support_

_i’m sorry eds but I’m about to go on stage_

_Shit_

_you’ll be fine!!!!!_ And then a few heart emojis. Eddie sighed. “Jezebel,” he said to her, as he sat on the floor watching her pace the room, “good luck, because I’m all you got.” Sure, he knew he could contact someone at the vet or the fostering organization, but… he wanted, if at all possible, to handle this himself. He just wondered if that would happen.

Biting his nails, Eddie watched as Jezebel paced some more, then got on her side, meowing every now and then, shifting and making biscuits and making a few strange noises. Eddie knew it could be a long time until she started giving birth, and that it might take a while. But he would do whatever he could, no matter how long it took.

“So,” he said to her at one point, suddenly tired of sitting here in silence, “I hear dude cats have spikes on their dicks, huh? That must suck. Sorry about that.” Jezebel paid him no mind, yowling and shifting. She started to lick herself down between her hind legs, and with shaking hands Eddie grabbed his phone and found the page he’d been studying about how you can tell when a cat is about to give birth, even though he’d basically memorized it.

From there, it was kind of a blur.

The first newborn was a tiny brown tabby; Jezebel licked off its amniotic sac, groomed it, and let it attach to one of her swollen nipples. Eddie made notes on the time the kitten was born and whether it seemed healthy; he did that for the little ginger that followed, and the other brown tabby, then a tuxedo like its mother, and the last, a wee black kitten. All were cleaned off by Jezebel, their umbilical cords nipped off—Eddie had been afraid he might have to cut the cords if Jezebel didn’t, but that wasn’t necessary—and eventually a squirming litter of five wet kittens was nursing, as Jezebel made biscuits on the slightly bloody towel. Eddie was a little concerned that there might be another kitten or two in Jezebel, so he knew he still needed to keep an eye on her just in case, but it seemed unlikely. 

He finally really paid attention to the time on his phone, and realized it was evening and an entire afternoon had gone by. “Good girl,” he murmured to a loudly purring Jezebel, who blinked slowly at him and kept making biscuits in the air, and then he finally texted Richie a picture of her and the babies.

_omg. Eddie, you did it_

_I didn’t do anything, I just watched_

_It was a very important job, dont’ sell yourself short_

_How was your show?_ Eddie asked. 

_It was great. I’m going to miss being on tour with these guys but I’m really excited to get back to Chicago to see you and the kittens and the momma_

_We’re all looking forward to seeing you. Me and Jezebel are, at least, I don’t think the babies will have their eyes open yet._

_aw. Well I’m still going to love on them_

Although he was exhausted, after Richie said goodnight Eddie set about very carefully weighing the kittens, so he could keep notes on their growth, using the scale he’d bought for this purpose. He did it as quickly as possible, so the kittens wouldn’t be away from their mother for long and wouldn’t get too cold; there was a heated pad in there with them, but still. After making sure she had enough water and food, he went to bed, and thought about what it would be like with Richie home.

Just as Eddie was about to fall asleep, he realized the only bed in Richie’s apartment was this one, and he wondered which of them would have to sleep on that narrow couch until he left.

\-------

Despite how tired he was, Richie was impatient to get home and see Eddie and the cats; he felt like he could sleep for a week, but at the same time, he was restless, tapping his fingers on the door of the limo as it pulled up to his building. Some of his luggage had already been shipped home, and Eddie claimed to have done his laundry, which had Richie feeling oddly exposed and embarrassed, but grateful. He hustled his bag to the elevator and was practically twitching as he waited for it to arrive at his floor, when it suddenly occurred to him that Eddie was staying with him this weekend and one of them would have to sleep on the couch. 

With any other friend or acquaintance, this would be a given, but the very thought felt strange to him, because over the past few weeks he’d thought kind of a lot about Eddie sleeping in his bed, and he kind of wanted to personally witness that for himself. That, though, was impossible, and he’d have to resign himself to one of them, probably him, sleeping on the couch. He was sure Eddie would insist that he take his own bed back, but that would mean forcing Eddie to sleep on that narrow couch. Fuck, why didn’t he have a foldout bed? Why didn’t he have a third bedroom, one he didn’t use as a study? Maybe he could put something on the bed between them. Maybe he could sleep in a sleeping bag on it, or on the floor. Because one thing that definitely wasn’t happening was Eddie and himself sleeping in the same bed at the same time, together, next to each other. Eddie didn’t want that. After they had both come out, Eddie had never even implied that he was interested. Because he wasn’t. 

But… there were those fucking _pictures_.

The elevator dinged, and Richie rushed to his apartment. Unlocking and opening the door, he called out “Eds!” and practically tripped over Eddie in the foyer, looking scrubbed clean and perfect in a white t-shirt and jeans. Part to keep his balance, part because he really wanted to, Richie wrapped his arms tightly around Eddie in a fierce hug. Eddie kind of went still like he was surprised, but relaxed into it, wrapping his arms around Richie in turn. The sheer heaviness of his bag reminded him he was standing in the foyer nearly falling over, and he jumped back, set the bag down, and exclaimed, “Where is everybody?!”

Eddie laughed, showing his dimples; after he closed the door, he led the way to the kitten room.

Richie had FaceTimed with Jezebel and the tinies and he figured she might recognize his voice when she perked up at his walking into the room. “Jezzie!” he said, bending down to pet her. She was nursing most of her litter, one between her front legs as she apparently was interrupted in cleaning it. “Don’t get up, don’t get up, it’s just me,” he told her, running a finger with the direction of the fur on her forehead as she looked up at him with curious yellow eyes. “What are their names?” he asked Eddie as he scritched her under the chin, realizing he didn’t know.

“Oh, uh.” Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. “I hadn’t named them yet. Wanted to let you name them, since I’m passing them on to you and technically they’ll be with you longer than they’ll have been with me.”

“Jeez!” Richie stared up at Eddie, sure his astonishment was plain on his face. “That’s huge, Eds. I can’t believe it. I’m… I’m fucking honored, man.”

The smile returned to Eddie’s face. “Got any theme ideas?”

“Uh. Which are male and which are female?” Richie asked, and Eddie pointed them out, adding that he was pretty sure, but it wasn’t always easy to tell. Basically, though, until further notice, three boys and two girls. “Okay, uh. Peter, Winston, Egon, Janine, and Dana.”

“Oh my God, Rich,” Eddie said, laughing. “Perfect.”

“‘There is no Dana, only Zuul,’” Richie intoned, and Eddie cracked up. Entertaining Eddie always thrilled Richie to his core, no matter how many big-time tours he might go on in his life and how many big deals he might be lucky enough to close. He grinned stupidly at Eddie for what felt like a minute until he snapped out of it and said, “I gotta grab a snack—” and Eddie jumped into action with “Oh, of course!” and helped him get settled back in.

“So,” he said, tossing his banana peel in the compost bin, “are you up for dinner out tonight?”

Eddie was looking at his laptop. “Sure,” he said after a moment. “Hey, if you want to look, here’s the spreadsheet I made of the kittens and their weights and here’s the tab of how often I’ve fed them.”

Richie needed no further encouragement to come over and look. One thing Eddie had done, he noticed, was that he’d entered the kittens’ names where applicable. But the entire concept was adorable, even though Richie guessed spreadsheets to track kitten development was a pretty common thing with fostering. “Oh my God, you’re so fucking cute,” he remarked. 

Eddie didn’t reply, instead standing, picking up his laptop, and saying “Now that you’ve had your snack, wanna help me weigh them and—what was it you said—love on them?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Richie replied, rubbing his hands together. “Lemme at ‘em.”

They went back into the kitten room, and Eddie pulled back the plexiglass to create a space they could reach through so they didn’t have to lift the babies high up in the air and away from Jezebel. It was warm in here; not only had Eddie bought a heating pad, he had a little heater set up in the corner. 

The kittens were tiny enough that, after Eddie picked each one up to weigh it and check its gums over squirming protests, he could place two in each of Richie’s hands. At first, since they couldn’t hear or see and didn’t recognize Richie’s smell yet, they hissed—tiny little adorable hisses. Richie held his hands together so that the fifth kitten could be placed on top, just to see if they could all fit, but then Eddie said Jezebel was starting to look apprehensive, and one by one he carefully put them back at the “milk bar,” as he called it. They crawled around and battled each other for nipple space until they were all nursing again, and Jezebel went back to making air biscuits, blinking slowly at Eddie as he filled Richie in on everything that had happened with them that he hadn’t already told him about. 

After the kittens started slowly crawling around, apparently full and stumbling like they were drunk, Eddie handed them to Richie for cuddling and being cooed at one at a time, just briefly since, he said, while he did want them to get used to Richie and to being handled he didn’t want to touch them much more than was strictly necessary. When they started fussing he took them back and held them briefly before putting them back with Jezebel. Funnily enough, although he was pretty high-strung most of the time, Eddie seemed to have a more calming energy with the babies, whereas Richie was so excited to hold them and talk to them that they inevitably started squirming, like he was transferring his energy to them as he talked about their tiny pink toes and squinty little eyes and pointy little tails. He was, he thought, probably better with older kittens. 

“Remember visiting Mike’s barn cats when they had kittens?” Eddie asked, sounding fond. “They were so cute.” Richie didn’t think he’d ever seen Eddie quite this relaxed. He had the black one in his palm, and that one was starting to doze off. They both watched the kitten, his little full belly rising and falling with his breaths, totally relaxed, and Eddie remarked, “I think this one likes me.”

Richie laughed. “I know the feeling,” he said wryly, before he could stop himself. Oops. Chalk it up to... jetlag?

Eddie cocked his brow, and said nothing, stroking a gentle finger over the kitten’s back. Richie pretended to be studying the way the two tabbies fought with each other for space, and then finally said, “So, dinner? I want to take you to Virtue, it’s amazing.”

“With a name like that, are you even allowed in there?” Eddie asked, with a grin. “If you’re not too tired, sure.”

“Wear something nice,” Richie said, waggling his eyebrows. 

“I didn’t bring anything nice,” Eddie said. “I thought I’d be looking after kittens all the time.” He gently placed the dozing kitten down against Jezebel’s belly. 

“Eddie, come on. I know you, I know you brought something in case you had to go in to work out here.”

“All right, fine. I’ll wear a suit. Happy?” 

“I’m fucking ecstatic.” The thing was, it was true. 

Richie cooed over the kittens a little bit more before he went to get dressed too, suddenly not feeling nearly as tired. He decided to make an extra effort in looking decent, for Eddie.

It wasn’t until they were outside Virtue that he realized—he was mildly kind of famous, and it looked like he and Eddie were probably out on a date. Once the thought got in his head, he couldn’t shake it—and he was pretty sure Eddie would disapprove. He might as well warn him.

“Eddie,” he said, _sotto voce_ , “not to sound like an asshole, but I’m like a C-list celebrity and sometimes people take my picture, and… it might kind of look like we’re… together? I’m so sorry, man, I wasn’t thinking.”

Eddie looked confused for a moment, then kind of hurt, and then before Richie could decide what the fuck that could even mean, he nodded. “Don’t worry about it, Rich. I don’t mind.”

“Okay, good.” Richie sighed, and tried to relax and enjoy one of his favorite restaurants with possibly his favorite person of all time, not that said person knew that, or ever would. Eddie seemed suitably impressed with the fine dining, and impressing Eddie was all Richie had ever cared about, anyway.

Once they were back in the apartment, even though he’d kept tabs with the camera Eddie made a beeline for the kitten room and ensured that Jez had enough food and water for the time being. The babies were twitching in their sleep. “They all seem to be eating well,” Eddie remarked. “Mom doesn’t seem to have mastitis or any major discomfort.”

“Ah,” Richie said. “Good. You up for a nightcap? Hot toddy, Old Fashioned? I think the activity of the day might finally be catching up with me.” 

“Yeah, sure, I could do a hot toddy.” 

“Okay then, gimme a second.” Richie stretched and yawned, and the sound caught in his throat when Eddie suddenly said, “So, where am I sleeping?” Like a punch to the gut Richie remembered those pictures of him in bed. _His_ bed. 

“Uh,” Richie said, trying to recover. “I’ll take the couch.”

“You will not,” Eddie said immediately. “It’ll kill your back, Rich. And your legs are too fucking long. You need your own bed again, after a month.”

“I gotta give the guest the bed! My mother would kill me otherwise. Manners,” Richie protested.

“I’ll do the couch. I’ll… fit on it better,” Eddie conceded, rather than saying what Richie knew they were both thinking. Richie couldn’t help grinning. “Shut up, Rich,” Eddie added. “I’ll be fine, it’s just for one night and I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

“Look, let’s decide after we have that hot toddy,” Richie suggested. “Maybe we’ll flip for it.”

Eddie scoffed, but followed him to the kitchen, where Richie made them hot toddies, which they drank at the breakfast bar. 

“Oh, dude,” Richie said suddenly, “I have to show you this weird-ass airport art I saw in Denver. Like, just the wildest shit, these crazy murals. I felt like I was losing my mind looking at them. To say nothing of the fucking gigantic blue horse statue outside—” 

As Eddie sipped his drink, Richie got out his phone to show it to him—and as he unlocked it he realized, too late, that the photo Eddie sent him of himself in Richie’s bed with the kitten next to him was his background image. 

“Uh,” Richie said. “I’m sorry, I’ll delete that right now, I— uh—” Frantically he searched through his phone settings trying to find the one that changed his background. “Fuck. Fuck, just gimme a second—”

“You don’t have to delete it,” Eddie said quietly, and Richie dared to glance over at him. There was a knowing glint in his big brown eyes when Richie’s gaze met them, a hint of a smile, and then Eddie looked down into what was left of his drink. “I mean, Nod is really cute, right?” 

“Yeah,” Richie said, quickly putting his phone down before he could do any more damage with it. “Nod is… so cute.” He downed the rest of his hot toddy as quickly as he could. 

“Almost as cute as you are,” Eddie said, turning to face him more, resting one of his shoes on the rung of Richie’s barstool, between his legs.

“Eds,” Richie said, “I know I make strong hot toddies, but seriously—”

“Shut up,” Eddie murmured, pulling Richie toward him with his free hand by his tie. For once, Richie was glad he’d worn a tie.

“Shutting up,” Richie whispered, just before he was kissed.

\-------

This time when Eddie woke up in Richie’s bed, he wasn’t alone.

“Richie,” he murmured to Richie’s broad, bare back in front of him. “Richie. Wake up, Rich, we gotta check on the cats.” He pressed a kiss to the curve where Richie’s shoulder met his neck, and slid an arm over him, tucking his knees up behind Richie’s. Somehow, being curled up behind Richie in a warm, soft bed was where he knew he was always supposed to be. 

“Hm?” Richie grunted, half-turning and looking very confused, then surprised, then disbelieving, then astonished. Eddie kissed his neck and up his jaw.

“Come on,” he whispered, “we gotta go check on the cats.”

“If we need to go check on the cats,” Richie said with apparent effort, “why are you starting something with me right now?”

“Can’t help it, I guess?” Eddie replied, but point taken—he shifted back. Richie groaned, rubbing his face, and then sat up a bit to put on his glasses. He blinked at Eddie as his vision came into focus.

“Oh, good, I wasn’t hallucinating. ...Unless I’m hallucinating now.”

“Shut up, and come on. There’s coffee, I set the timer.” They got out of bed, and Eddie was treated to the sight of shirtless and rumpled Richie with pajama pants hanging loosely on his hips, just under the slight curve of his fantastic belly and hairy pecs… all right, there was coffee to be had and cats to check on. Later… later. “Pour us the coffee,” he directed, “and I’ll check on the cats.”

“Then can we go back to bed?”

“Yes,” Eddie called firmly from the kitten room. Jezebel was grooming herself, and the babies were in a little pile huddled together, mostly asleep but squirming a little. He refilled Jez’s food bowl and then went to the kitchen, taking his coffee mug from Richie. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Richie replied. “What time do you need to be at the airport?”

Eddie stopped, surprised by the question. “Uh, not until like four o’clock.”

“Okay, good,” Richie said, setting down his mug and leaning in for a kiss. It was a very morning-breath, coffee-breath kiss, but Eddie barely cared. He quickly downed the rest of his coffee and pulled Richie back to bed, and when they woke up two hours or so later, they were naked this time.

“Hey,” Eddie said again. 

“Eds, if you make me get up again right now, I swear to God.”

“I won’t.” Eddie was lying on Richie, and wasn’t inclined to move until he absolutely had to. “I missed you,” he added.

Richie looked confused. “When? I’ve been right here.”

Eddie sighed. “I mean every time you weren’t here. The whole time. Every time you weren’t near me.”

Richie swallowed, and Eddie was surprised he didn’t follow with some kind of joke, playing it off. “Yeah?” he said, a little rough with sleep, and licked his lips.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispered back. “Fuck, yes, Richie. I always miss you.”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Richie said, turning over fully to wrap his arms around Eddie. “So last night wasn’t a fluke—” His voice was shaking a little, now.

“Not a fluke,” Eddie told him. “I wish I didn’t have to leave, I hate that fucking apartment in New York, there’s nothing for me there—”

“Yeah, I wish you didn’t have to leave either,” Richie breathed, shuddering a little as Eddie kissed his jaw. “I mean, the kittens are really gonna miss you, especially the black one, and Jez will too, I mean, they were all just getting to know you, and you’ll just be— I mean, I’ll be here alone with them, and who needs that, right—”

“Me, I do, I need to be alone with you,” Eddie said, sucking a kiss into the surprisingly soft skin under Richie’s ear.

“Fuck,” Richie breathed. “Eds, I— This place isn’t very big, right, I only have this one bedroom and this one bed, see— If you tried to move your stuff in here, you’d—”

Eddie chuckled, lips brushing Richie’s warm, sleep-flushed skin. “Fuck anything that’s still in that New York apartment. Clearly I can do without it. Everything I need is right here.” He ground his hips down on Richie’s, savoring the breathless gasp it got him. 

“Okay,” Richie said, a little shaky, something like awe in his voice. “Eds.... You talked me into it.”

\-------

“Hey,” Richie said softly, practically tiptoeing into the kitten room with two cups of coffee. “How is he? Did he gain at all?”

Eddie sat cross-legged on the floor, hair sticking up every which way, holding in one hand a syringe of kitten milk and in the other a gray tabby so little his eyes weren’t open. The syringe was mostly empty, and the kitten had drops of milk around his tiny pink mouth. “Yeah,” Eddie sighed, “but not much.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m still worried.”

“Of course.” Richie sat down on the floor with a grunt, set the coffee cups down, and peered over into the incubator, where the kitten’s three siblings dozed on a “snuggle kitty,” a stuffed toy cat that made a heartbeat sound, with a heat source inside. It always broke Richie’s heart to see orphaned babies clinging to a fake mom, so he didn’t look longer than it took to determine that they all seemed okay, although of course if anything had been wrong Eddie would have already noticed and taken care of it. 

With the syringe almost empty, when the kitten started squirming Eddie apparently decided he wasn’t going to eat any more just now, and he put the syringe down, and picked up a washcloth to wipe the baby’s face of formula remnants. Richie knew that next he’d be rubbing the baby’s bottom with a tissue to get him to pee and maybe even poop; while that was fairly objectively gross, it was necessary for all the kittens every time they were fed, without a mama to stimulate them. 

“Some coffee will get him going,” Richie commented, and Eddie rolled his eyes at the frequent joke. The kitten squealed in protest at the indignity he was being put through, tiny paws waving in the air, until he finally relaxed.

“No diarrhea,” Eddie reported.

“Cheers, always a plus,” Richie said, and took a long drink of coffee.

Eddie wiped the baby clean, kissed his forehead, and put him back in the incubator next to his larger, healthier siblings. “Who’s next?” he asked the remaining babies, as he wiped his hands with yet another wet wipe.

“Babe, at least have some coffee first,” Richie said. “You were on night shift.”

“No, no,” Eddie said. “I told you not to make me any, I gotta go to sleep.”

“Like two ships passing in the night,” Richie sighed. “I miss you.” He leaned over to kiss Eddie’s temple. Having to feed newborns every two hours meant they were trading off shifts; Richie usually took the night watch, but every now and then they changed it up. Regardless, it meant that when they had a litter of neonate orphans, for a few weeks they weren’t able to sleep in the same bed at the same time for long. They’d tried them both waking up every two hours, but it quickly became clear that wasn’t going to work for either of them.

Eddie chuckled tiredly, sounding fond. “I know, sweetheart, I miss you too. It’s just for a few more weeks, then we can do every five hours. I think this’ll be our last crew for a while.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed, picking up a bottle and taking out another kitten, who squeaked and kicked its tiny legs. He jerked his chin in the direction of the incubator. “That little runt is doing a number on my heart.”

“I know the feeling,” Richie said, and Eddie elbowed him in the side. “Ow. Let me have one,” he said, setting down his coffee cup and picking up a bottle, taking the baby Eddie handed him. “Other Dad’s shift is starting, good morning, kids,” he told them. “But yeah,” he said to Eddie, “we can take a break. Maybe go on vacation. Beach house in the Bahamas? Alaskan cruise? Just name it.”

Eddie shook his head. “Kinda want to stay here,” he said. “Just... hang out with you. Relax.”

“Staycation it is,” Richie said. “Whatever you want.” Yeah—just sleeping in with Eddie in their own bed actually did sound like a total dream right about now. He wouldn’t be going on another tour for some time, and filming for the next season of the show he was a supporting cast member on wouldn’t start for a few months. 

Once all the kittens were fed and had peed or pooped, the two of them went to the kitchen, rinsed out the cups and bottles and syringe, and scrubbed up. Eddie filled out his spreadsheet, and then stifled a yawn. Richie looked over at Eddie, in pajama pants and one of Richie’s old t-shirts, dark hair looking crazy, his face soft and tired; he stopped, cupped Eddie’s face in his hands, and kissed him.

“What was that for?” 

“Just a goodnight kiss for my husband,” Richie said. “Thank you for trading shifts with me.” 

“Mm.” Eddie closed his eyes for a moment, swaying a little on his feet. “Are Barnum and Bailey still asleep?” 

“Yeah, the little bastards. Probably got in my warm space the second I left.” Barnum and Bailey, chunky and loud ginger brothers, loved Eddie best and seemed to only tolerate Richie for his body heat. They frequently would sleep on him like he was just a large piece of warm, hairy cat furniture; Eddie felt this was cute, but also that when all was said and done, sleeping on Richie was _his_ spot, thank you very much, and the cats often ended up displaced at the end of the bed, or draped over the pillows if they could find the room.

He let Eddie go, then patted him on his pajama-clad butt. “Go on, get your ass in bed. I’ll see you in a few hours. I got this. I’ve got some material to test on them, we’ll be fine.”

“Poor things,” Eddie said, smiling, and then shuffled off to their bedroom. Richie watched him go, thinking, as he so often did, that he never would have expected kittens to have been what finally brought them together. But at least something had. He made a mental note to increase their recurring donation to the foster organization he’d first gotten involved with. 

“Hey. Love you,” Richie called after him. It still dazzled him that he got to say that, now, out loud; that Eddie sent him pics of him in _their_ bed now with no need for him to guess at what Eddie might mean. Yeah, they were literally married, but Richie still couldn’t quite believe his luck. 

“Same to you and more of it, pal,” he heard Eddie call back, sounding exhausted but fond.

**Author's Note:**

> Liz and I have been discussing off and on what it would be like if Richie and Eddie fostered kittens! I tried to get the kitten-fostering details right, but I apologize for any mistakes!


End file.
